


Creato da Dio

by LeslutDeLionwhore



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Begging, First Time, Fluff, Light Angst, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Renaissance Era, Size Difference, Smut, The Vampire Armand, Vampire Chronicles, Vampire Sex, Vampires, pre-vampire Armand / Amadeo, yes they're problematic yes i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29279343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeslutDeLionwhore/pseuds/LeslutDeLionwhore
Summary: “You speak of pleasuring me with that velvet tongue of yours, but one impulsive flick of my wrist in the midst of our intimacy and I could very well pull the hair from your head. You beg to have me inside you, but should I falter for even a moment, I could crack your fragile hips, bruise your beautiful torso.” He presses another kiss to the corner of Armand’s mouth, so gentle that he can hardly even imagine the strength his Master describes. “Who am I to crack stone sculpted by the gods themselves?”
Relationships: Armand/Marius de Romanus
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	Creato da Dio

**Author's Note:**

> I finished the vampire Armand a few days ago and CRIED so here's a little self indulgent smut, I left armand's age unclear so if you want to picture him as 17 as he is in canon or as older, it's up to you

“What else must I do to earn this?” Armand half pouts and half genuinely laments as he slides his hand up the strong thigh of his Master, caressing the expensive velvet and palming over the bulge he  _ knows _ is aroused. 

Long enough has gone by that Armand knows what Marius truly is. He knows enough to beg to be made like him every night, but every night is turned down nonetheless. On a good night, he’ll drink the sweet blood from his Master’s lips and enjoy the pleasure Marius’s marblelike hands often grant him, but he’s growing more and more impatient. Marius has told him that sex is different for creatures of his kind, but when Armand had asked the blunt question of whether or not Marius could fuck him if he wanted to, Marius had blushed and given a vague answer that implied  _ yes, if I really, really wanted to. _

Armand wants him to want to. He learned so much in the great brothels of the city and what was all of that education for if not to better serve his Master? He wants to use his new skills to prove himself the man he knows himself to be, to give his Master pleasure like he so often receives from him. Most of all, he loves his Master. He wants to feel him inside. He wants their bodies to fuse in that deliciously lustful way he’s now experienced so many times in Venice, so very different from the violent assaults of his past. He knows now how to make love and though Marius insists he loves him, Armand’s heart aches wondering _why_ _then_ , will he not give them this?

“It’s not a thing to be earned,” Marius replies calmly, his dark eyes never leaving the page of the text he’d brought to bed. It’s typical for him to read at night while he settles into bed with Armand, enjoying each other’s closeness before Marius will slip away to sleep in his personal crypt beneath the palazzo. 

“Then what must I  _ do _ ?” Armand groans, cupping the source of his Master’s desire in his hand and leaning over the book to obstruct his view and kiss his cool lips. “Why is it that any man in Venice will so eagerly make love to me except the man who claims to be my lover?”

“It is not so simple,” Marius sighs, reaching up to push a curl of auburn hair out of his eyes. “My Amadeo… My beautiful one, with pleasure, comes great passion and with passion, it is… more difficult to keep ones wits about them.”

“I know what I’m doing, I’m-“

“I’m talking about  _ myself _ ,” Marius interrupts, shutting the book and tossing it aside on the large canopied bed, so that both his hands are free to caress Armand’s cheeks. “You speak of pleasuring me with that velvet tongue of yours, but one impulsive flick of my wrist in the midst of our intimacy and I could very well pull the hair from your head. You beg to have me inside you, but should I falter for even a moment, I could crack your fragile hips, bruise your beautiful torso.” He presses another kiss to the corner of Armand’s mouth, so gentle that he can hardly even imagine the strength his Master describes. “Who am I to crack stone sculpted by the gods themselves?”

Armand sees a sadness in his eyes and slumps his shoulders, leaning forward so that Marius wraps his arms around him and hugs tightly — tight enough to be comforting to Armand, but he knows how much Marius is controlling himself with even this simple embrace. Still, he doesn’t see why this is the way it must be. His Master is exactly that. He’s the master of controlling himself, why should Armand ever fear his strength in the act of passion? “Then don’t,” he replies softly, speaking into the crook of Marius’s neck where he leans in to kiss to the pale skin. “Don’t lose control.”

“It’s not so easy.”

“Isn’t it?” Armand lifts his head and looks at his Master with pleading eyes. Beneath the simple linen tunic he’d worn to bed, he’s achingly hard, slick between his legs from preparations he made just  _ in case _ he could convince Marius tonight. His whole body is singing with want,  _ begging _ Marius to take care of him like he knows he wants to. He can’t take it anymore. “Master, I am no porcelain doll in your hands. I know you could break free, but let me tie your hands to the bedpost as they taught me. Let me take you inside me from on top of you. Wouldn't it be much easier to restrain yourself that way?”

“Amadeo, you don’t know what you ask.”

“I  _ do _ know what I ask,” Armand groans in frustration, taking matters into his own hands as he sits back to remove the tunic, pulling it up over his head and tossing it far away before climbing into Marius’s lap. He’s naked without his bedclothes and he knows what he looks like this way. He’s left many a courtesan and gentleman spellbound with this beauty. His chest and cheeks are flushed with desire, his nipples pink and pebbled in the cool night air of the bedchamber. His cock stands erect, blushing and full as it nudges at Marius’s stomach. “Please, Master,” he begs in the most sultry tone he can muster, taking Marius’s hand and guiding it around his waist and between his legs, letting him feel the oil on his skin.

“You wield your beauty in evil ways, young one,” Marius sighs, but a faint blush has come over his cheeks as he grabs a handful of his ass and bows his head to kiss over his chest. 

“Master,” Armand breathes reverently, tipping his head back so his curls fall around him, bowing his back as Marius so gently mouths over each nipple, soothing them with a warm tongue. “Please, Master… I’m yours. Join with me. Take me like I know you desire to.”

“Watch your words,” Marius warns, giving his ass a light smack before he brings his hand around and wraps long fingers around Armand’s cock. 

Armand ignores the warning and whimpers for him, rolling his hips into the touch. “ _ Please _ , Master,  _ please. _ ”

“You’re spoiled.”

“Then make me behave.”

“ _ Amadeo _ .”

“I’m sorry.” Armand blushes, batting his eyelashes as he continues to shift his hips slowly back and forth, chasing the pleasure of Marius’s fist. “But I mean what I ask. Will you try for me? Just this once at least. I want you.”

Marius gives another long contemplative sigh and nods his head, sliding his free hand up the curve of Armand’s sides as if relishing the very texture of his skin. “I will try. Once. For you.”

Armand doesn’t even try to hide the giddy delight he feels, grinning wide and bringing Marius’s hand up to his lips immediately to kiss each ring on his fingers. “Thank you, Master,” he murmurs reverently. “Thank you, thank you.”

Marius moves him out of his lap as if he weighs nothing at all and rises from the bed, disrobing in a quick swoosh of luxurious fabric. He lets his garments fall to the floor, all but the red sash from around his waist, which he places back on the bed. “Are you adequately prepared?”

“Yes Sir.” Armand swallows and lays back on the pillows, spreading his legs eagerly. This part he is more than familiar with and he knows his Master won’t penetrate him without seeing for himself that Armand is slick and relaxed enough to take him. 

“My spoiled pupil,” Marius whispers in a low voice as he pulls the canopy shut around them and crawls over Armand, caging him in with strong arms as he bows his head to kiss his lips. 

Armand moans into the kiss, parting his lips and letting his Master lick into his mouth to show his gratitude. One of Marius’s hands comes to his hip then slides down the inside of his thigh. He spreads his legs as wide as he can comfortably do so and gasps against Marius when he feels the first finger push into him. 

“I suppose they did teach you well,” Marius murmurs, sliding the finger in and out then curling it to ease a helpless moan from Armand’s lips. “Remember, you’ve never taken one such as me before. Even if I am fully in control of my strength, it will be much to take in.”

“I am ready for it,” Armand insists, but Marius kisses him again and continues to work with his fingers. 

Often too shy to do so, Armand indulges himself this time in pushing his hands into his Master’s hair, relishing in the silkiness of the blonde locks between his fingers as he moans against his lips. It goes on like this for some time, Armand suspecting his endurance is being tested as well as Marius adds another finger, then another, expertly massaging his point of pleasure until Armand is practically writhing against him. 

“I suppose that will do.” Marius makes to pull away, but Armand takes his shoulder.

“Wait,” he says, reaching blindly under the pillow and fumbling until he grasps the phial of oil he had stashed in preparation. “For you.”

“Good,” Marius says with a smile, pressing an ever so innocent kiss to Armand’s cheek before he pulls away and lies on his back, arms held above his head with his wrists pressed together. “Let’s put your little plan into action. You’ll want to restrain me well.”

Armand’s eyes flit to the sash on the bed. “I will.”

He climbs into Marius’s lap once more, enjoying the teasing bites and kisses he receives on his chest and neck as he diligently ties his Master’s wrists to the center of the bed’s elaborate headboard. It is ultimately in vain, as they both know Marius could easily rip the wood in two if he wanted to, but the cognitive reminder of having his hands bound should make it easier to stay under control. 

Armand ties a snug knot and kisses each of his Master’s hands before sliding down, so that he straddles Marius’s thighs. A flush comes over him as he takes in the sight, determined to commit it to memory. He’s seen his Master naked many times before, but never in such a state of arousal. Marius has his eyebrows raised as if to ask  _ do you know what you’re getting into _ ? But Armand’s eyes are fixated on his cock, erect and excited, blushing red at the tip. He’d never seen Marius so physically aroused before, at least not this closely. He wants badly to bend over and take him in his mouth, but settles instead for popping the cork of the phial and pouring the oil into his palm. 

He’s surprised to find Marius shivers when he reaches out to spread the oil over his arousal, taking the erection in his hand and lovingly coating it in the slickness. He wonders if all this time it isn’t that it’s difficult to physically pleasure his Master as Marius has so often implied, but that his Master just often denies himself the pleasure.

Armand had planned this well. His Master had hunted only a few short hours prior and while his body remains hard, Armand finds him warm with the fresh blood, his cock responsive to his touch. He intends to show him far more than a clumsy ride in his lap however and tucks himself cozily against Marius’s side as he strokes his oil slick cock.

“Does this please you, Master?” He whispers as he leans in to mouth at Marius’s neck, mimicking what he loves to have done to himself as he sucks love marks onto the pale skin — smiling in awe when they vanish almost instantly. He soothes each brief mark with his tongue regardless, pumping Marius in his fist as he leans up to suckle at an ear lobe, kiss the shell of it and let his breath fall hot against the sensitive cartilage. “Master?”

“It…” Marius’s voice is heavy, “pleases me more than I care to admit.”

Armand grins at the affirmation and slinks back down the bed, straddling Marius’s thighs and looking at him again, taking in the dark desire of his eyes and licking his lips while he continues to stroke his cock. He knows Marius is utterly smitten with the sight of his own and as his various lovers-in-training have told him, Armand knows how pretty he looks like this. He knows Marius loves the sight of his cock hard and wet with excitement and he arches his back a little to push his hips forward and improve the view. “Am I still just an innocent pupil of yours?”

“You will always be my pupil,” Marius sighs, “but you are anything but innocent.”

Without asking permission, Armand takes the lead and shuffles forward, making sure his hair doesn’t obscure his expression when he bites his lip and sinks on to his Master for the first time. 

“ _ Oh _ ,” the sound punches out of his throat when he sits himself down on the first inch or so. He’s taken men of this size before, but he has to admit it’s still a challenge with his small frame. His eyes flutter shut and it takes a moment for him to collect himself, to make eye contact with his Master and let out the softest filthiest moan he can manage as he lowers himself further. He watches how his Master flushes again at the sight of him, feels subtle twitches in his thighs and hips as Marius reels in his instincts to move. 

“Master,” Armand whimpers, tilting his head to the side so his hair cascades without obstructing his face. He wants his Master to see clearly as he fully seats himself in his lap and breathes heavily. Let him see his face blushing fiercely, his eyes full of need, his lips wet and wanting. It hurts, but not so much that it’s unbearable. “Master, you… you’re finally inside me,” he gasps genuinely as he rocks his hips a little, shivering at the pressure it puts on his prostate. “ _ Ohh _ .”

“ _ Gods _ , you’re an exquisite one,” Marius says, his own eyes flitting shut as Armand begins to move a bit more. “You’ve learned so well.”

“I learned only because I wanted to make you feel good,” Armand says, building a rhythm of shallow little bounces in his Master’s lap to get used to taking him in and out, wanting to make sure he takes him deep every single time. He shifts forward a little and groans as his hands fall to the mattress on either side of Marius’s chest for balance. Angled like this, the friction against that sweet place inside is even better. 

“That’s it, young one,” Marius murmurs. “Take your pleasure.”

“I-I want to give you  _ yours _ ,” Armand whines, but he’s helpless now to this intense stimulation, his muscles relaxes and inviting his Master’s presence inside him, each jerk of his hips rubbing that place again and again. 

“Rest assured my cherub…” Marius stops as if to collect himself, his voice still breathy and heavy when he speaks again. “You are giving me more than enough.”

Armand moans in response, further aroused by his Master’s own desire as he drops his head and begins to suck hungrily at one of the Master’s nipples. He relishes in the sharp intake of breath it elicits and licks the sensitive bud of flesh with such sweetness between rougher bites. He moves to the other one as he continues riding, shivering when a low groan comes from his master’s mouth. 

“Master,” he breathes against him, pressing his forehead to the marble-hard chest beneath him as pleasure begins to crest inside him.  _ He can’t come yet _ . He needs to prove himself, show his Master that he’s a man, that he won’t burst after just a few minutes of fucking. He tries to calm himself without slowing the pace, needing to give Marius as much pleasure as he can give. 

What if he ruins this? If he can’t perform to the high standards of his Master, he may never be granted the opportunity again. Already, having this inside him is so  _ good _ , so fulfilling to finally be connected as one body with his Master, but each time he moves himself down, he inches closer to climax and his thighs are beginning to tremble from the effort. 

Maybe he wasn’t ready. Maybe he is just a stupid little boy and Marius is just pitying him, letting him try out this silly experiment so that he learns for certain that he isn’t good enough to give his Master the pleasure he so often gives to Armand. God, he shouldn’t have let Marius spend so much time using his fingers.

He drops his head and moans to cover his impending panic, letting his hair fall in a curtain to shield his expression this time. His breath is picking up. It feels so indescribably  _ good _ , he doesn’t know how he’s going to keep from orgasm any second now and without meaning to, a cry escapes his lips. He hopes Marius mistakes it for a sound of pleasure, but tears are stinging at his eyes and nothing gets past the other’s preternatural mind and eyes.

“Amadeo,” Marius murmurs in the softest voice. “Stop this, why do you cry?”

Armand halts his movements and sits with Marius still buried inside of him, not wanting to let go as he sniffles and raises his head in shame. “It’s not enough.”

For perhaps the first time, his Master looks confused.

“Enough?” He frowns. “Is it because I keep the blood kisses from you? My cherub, it is only because it would make it that much more difficult for me to control myself.”

Armand shakes his head and lets out a quiet sob. “I… I can’t hold out.” Even now, his body is trembling with the need to come. His balls are taut and his cock is hard to the point of pain. It’s taking enormous effort not to rock his hips once more and tumble over the edge. “I wanted to be perfect at this, I wanted to  _ show you _ , but I… Having you like this is too great, Master.” He averts his eyes again and sniffles. “I love you too much. You feel too good inside me and I… I’ll spill after hardly a moment of lovemaking and behave just like the school boy you think I am.” He hiccups at his confession, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks. His body is so tense it doesn’t help him at all, his muscles tight and his breathing shallow. 

“Amadeo… Unbind my hands. I don’t wish to break the headboard in two, but I can’t sit here restrained while you’re weeping.”

Armand swallows the lump in his throat and obeys, wincing at the sensitivity when he leans forward to untie his Master’s wrists from the wood of the bed frame.

“Come here, child,” Marius whispers, holding his arms open and allowing Armand to fall into his embrace without disconnecting from him. 

“I’m sorry.” Armand weeps, throwing his arms around his Master’s neck. “I love you. I wanted to be perfect.”

“Amadeo, you are beyond perfection,” Marius assures in a kind but matter-of-fact tone, as if he was reciting the thesis of a great philosopher and not comforting an immature lover. “You are my greatest weakness, the greatest beauty in my eternal life, my Amadeo. You think I would care one bit if pleasure overwhelmed you too soon? I expected as much to begin with. You are young and you have begged for this for some time now.”

“I wanted to prove to you that I’m a man.”

“I know what you are, my love.” Marius presses a kiss to the center of Armand’s head and takes a deep breath. “This is my fault. This isn’t how I should be making love to you.”

“What do you mean?” Panic seizes Armand’s chest. 

“Amadeo, listen to me very carefully,” Marius says, taking him by the chin to tilt his face up and kissing the tears from his cheeks. “The moment you feel even the slightest hint of pain, you cry out my name  _ immediately _ . Even the smallest discomfort. Are we understood?”

Armand swallows hard, confused, but nods his head anyways. “Of course, Master.”

“You will not attempt to grab my hands, for in the midst of passion, I may too easily grip yours too tightly.”

Armand’s heart thumps hard in his chest. Is his Master going to make love to him properly? Lay him down and take him the way Armand has dreamed of so many times? “Yes, Master.”

“Do not hold back your own pleasure.” Marius smiles when he speaks now, nuzzling their noses together a moment before planting the softest kiss on Armand’s lips. “I will have you spill as many times as you desire. It is no fault of yours, I love to see you in pleasure my cherub. I may even have to paint it tomorrow night, the sight is so beautiful.” 

In a flash, Armand is on his back, Marius looming over him with his long hair creating a curtain around their faces. They’re still joined. Before Armand can even register what’s happening, his Master is fisting the sheets in his hands and rocking his hips, pushing into him with carefully restrained motions that still press him in so deep, Armand can’t help but cry out. 

“Does this hurt you?”

“ _ No!” _ Armand lets out a sob of pleasure, throwing his arms around his Master’s shoulders and wrapping his legs around his hips. “Please, please, don’t stop Master. Please.” 

Marius chuckles a little and tilts his head, licking up Armand’s neck and sucking ever so gently on the sensitive skin so as not to pierce him with his fangs. The bed rocks with their movements. Armand knows how restrained his Master is, but the thrusts of his hips are sending him to heaven. He’s being fucked hard and fast, deeply and passionately, but not enough to hurt him. Not enough to even cause the slightest discomfort. His legs shake with the onslaught of pleasure and his back bows up off the expensive bed silks. 

“Master, I-I’m going to… Master!” He cries as his body goes taut with his first climax, his moans echoing off the gilded ceiling as he feels slickness spread between their bodies.

Marius doesn’t relent. “Is this what you wanted?” He asks in that breathy voice, sending shivers up Armand’s spine as he trembles with the sensitivity of orgasm. “How many times do you think you can spill before I do so myself?”

“Oh  _ God _ , I don’t know,” Armand pants, his face burning as he pushes his hand up into his Master’s hair and grips in an effort to ground himself. It’s not as if he can hurt Marius by pulling too hard. “Oh Master, please, please, I want you to die your little death with me. Please, take me until you do. I can take it. I want it.” His cock hardly even softened after the first orgasm, his body starting to adjust again to the punishing pace and receive it rather than fight the overwhelming sensation. He can come again in no time.

“You do know my pleasure is different, yes?” Marius murmurs with a nip to his ear. “We’ve discussed this. I can not fill you as your mortal lovers might.”

“I know, Master. I only want you to achieve your pleasure inside of me, regardless.”

“Good boy.” Marius says in the lowest tone and Armand groans at the words alone, clinging to his Master with all four limbs. 

It feels wonderful again. He wants his Master more than ever as his head tips back, baring his throat for more gentle bites and deliciously wet kisses. 

“I love you,” Armand sighs, eyes fluttering shut. “I love you, Master. I’ll do anything for you. I’ll be your best pupil and your best lover. I love you, I love you.” His thighs are already tensing again in anticipation. He’s prepared to endure several more orgasms before the night ends if that’s what Marius requires of him, but then his Master groans, a low and primal sound Armand could recognize from any man — the sound of one approaching climax. 

Has he truly been good enough at this to have Marius on the precipice now? Even after his tears and his clumsy first orgasm? 

“Oh Master, I love you,” Armand repeats and watches as Marius’s hands tighten in the sheets. His heart pounds at the realizations. “My Master, please come for me. I love you so much. You needn’t be lonely anymore, I will love you always.  _ Please, oh Master _ !” He gasps as Marius begins to fuck him even faster, almost impossibly deep. He knows how much restraint his Master is still using and wishes he could tell him to let go, but as his eyes roll back and tension swells in him once again, he thinks he may faint if Marius was to give him any more than this. 

“ _ Amadeo _ ,” Marius grunts and shoving himself in to the hilt, he tears the sheets where he grips them and lets out a beautiful sound, his pale face flushing pink and his entire body shivering over Armand as he reaches completion, seeming to quiver with his entire frame. 

It happens perfectly, the sound of his name entirely irresistible as Armand cries out once more and comes alongside him. His Master had been honest, there is no rush of warm seed that fills him, but he hardly misses it. He feels Marius’s cock subtly twitch and spasm inside of him and he himself ejaculates an amount between them that makes up for it plenty. Marius didn’t even need to touch his cock for the orgasm to rock his body and he collapses just as his Master seems to come down from his own pleasure, his limbs falling away from him, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat as he pants and turns his hot cheek against the cool fabric of the bed. 

“I love you too, my young one,” Marius whispers, slowly shifting to remove himself before reaching out to brush the hair out of Armand’s eyes. “Are you pleased?”

“I think…” Armand sighs, still catching his breath, “that you can see how pleased I am.”

“Always something clever to say,” Marius says, but his smile is soft and affectionate in Armand’s hazy vision. He looks like an angel — the ones he used to study in the gilded pages of illuminated manuscripts in Kiev. It’s the same sweet face Armand had seen come to his rescue in the brothel that would have become his grave. It’s as close to the face of Christ he may ever see. 

“Thank you,” is all Armand can manage after Marius kisses him, his lips softer than velvet and still warm from their passion.

“Come. Let’s get you bathed and properly into bed,” Marius says with one more kiss to his forehead. Armand doesn’t see him rise from the bed, but seconds later, strong arms are picking him up and cradling him, his head lolling against a firm white shoulder as he’s carried to the basin of warm water. 

Armand sighs when he’s lowered in and is pleased to find that Marius joins him rather than just watching or rinsing his hair from the tubside. He sits comfortably in his lap and slumps forward to rest his head in the crook of his neck, limbs already loose and heavy, his eyes drooping shut. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Yes,” Marius says with a kiss to his temple. “I’ll come with you back to bed until morning draws too near.”

Armand lets his eyes fall shut and melts into the other’s embrace as he’s bathed, feeling the soothing touch of strong hands wash the oil from his inner thighs away under the water, soap being lathered and spread over his back. He thinks he could die happy like this — warm and cared for, tucked so safely in the arms of someone who loves him. That inkling of doubt in his heart is quiet now. His Master does love him. 

He moves only to soak his hair, nearly dozing off as Marius washes it with the gentlest care, all while pressing tender kisses to Armand’s forehead, his temples. 

“Come, child,” Marius murmurs when he’s finished, rising effortlessly out of the water with Armand cradled safely and setting him on his feet again to towel him off. 

Usually, Armand would protest a little bit, say that he’s more than capable of drying himself, but the sweet way his Master kisses him as he runs the dry cloth over his skin renders him helpless. 

Marius takes care to shut all windows tight and draw the curtains, keeping out the chill of the night air before carrying Armand into bed.

“Join me,” Armand asks, half asleep already as he holds out his arms. It’s often that Marius will refuse him now. He’ll go to his desk to write until morning or go elsewhere in the palazzo to paint. He’ll read by the mantle or visit Bianca or hunt or any of the other mysterious activities he gets up to before dawn, but this time he gives in. He slides into bed next to Armand and shuts the canopy around them, pulling Armand right into his embrace once more and cradling him to his chest. 

“I wish you could lie here all night with me, Master,” Armand sighs, his eyelids heavy as he nestles into Marius’s chest and throws an arm around him, happily tangling their legs together under the bedding as he settles in. He never thought he could know such a comfort as this, already fading into sleep. “Thank you for making love to me. I know you won’t do it often, but… thank you.”

“I’m glad we did it, cherub,” Marius murmurs with a soothing kiss to the top of Armand’s head, his arms holding him protectively as sleep takes hold. “I’ll never have you doubt my love.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at leslutdelionwhore ! Also pls comment if you enjoyed this i'm not used to writing for small fandoms aaaa


End file.
